"Remember Celyn," Heulwen had said on more than one occasion," life is worth living, however hard it may appear" I had often wondered whether I would have got through the last eighteen months without having met her. The Price to Pay - Vol. 4.3 - Resolve? by Alys

I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, my eye followed the hairline crack in the plaster from the light fitting to the wall and back again. My Ipod earphones were throbbing with one of favourite oldie songs by The Who, also popular with my parents. The organ intro started up for the tenth time followed by the power chords and I followed the words until the so apt chorus -"we won't get fooled again"

I considered my situation and the question that was constantly in my mind was 'Why?". I had ridden home on my bike in a daze. It was one thing to be insulted by fellow pupils and I had expected a little of that even with the full support of the school for me returning after my gender shift. But to be publicly humiliated by a teacher! It was so much more hurtful for being unexpected. Especially from a teacher whom I had seemed to get along with before. Even getting the top grade in his subject in the summer's exams hadn't been enough to overcome what deep, hardened prejudice he obviously felt towards me.

My phone beeped. I picked it up to read the message.

'r u ok? xx Siá´n'

I put the phone back down. What could I say?

My phone beeped again and then again before I could pick it up. I read the supportive messages from Meryl and Sioned.

I considered for a few minutes and then typed a group reply.

'am ok, sleep now, talk l8r msn'

I didn't really feel like communicating with anyone at that moment. Even though I knew my friends were all well meaning I couldn't see how they could understand how I felt. I dreaded my parents coming home and having to explain to them. I suddenly felt the need to escape from having to discuss my 'problems' again.

A light breeze touched the curtains of my bedroom window gently. I looked outside at the warm, sunny early Autumn afternoon. Quickly I changed from my school clothes to my cycling outfit and within a couple of minutes was pedalling at a fast pace on the main road.

At first I cycled with no particular direction in mind, just enjoying the wind in my face, the rhythm of my body movements and the sights and sounds of the surrounding countryside. Nealy an hour later my various turns at junctions had taken me to the village of Penperlleni. The vague purpose, that had been in the back of my mind, suddenly crystallised into a definite destination.

I wheeled my bike through the rusting gate, along the uneven path to the small headstone in the corner of the graveyard.

I sat down on the grass next to the grave. I reached over to remove some of the dead flowers from the latest bunch that had been placed in front of the stone. It had been a couple of months since I had last visited the resting place of my friend from the hospice. Every time I came, even though I was an atheist, I felt her presence and always went away more settled and relaxed. I remembered some of the conversations we had had as I sat in peace and quiet.

"Remember Celyn," Heulwen had said on more than one occasion," life is worth living, however hard it may appear"

I had often wondered whether I would have got through the last eighteen months without having met her.

Some time later I shivered a little as an early evening cooling whisper of wind brushed my face. I stood up and moved over to the stone. I leant down and kissed it.

"Diolch Heulwen**." I said quietly, before turning and walking out with my bike to the road.

It was almost dark by the time I arrived home. My parents were waiting for me in the kitchen.

"Hi Celyn," said my Mother," where have you been? We were worried?"

"I went for a ride Mum," I replied," why were you worried?"

"Siá´n phoned." answered my Dad.

"Oh, what did he say?"

"He told us what happened," stated my Dad, firmly," I have a mind to go and brick the windows of that bastard Franklin!"

My Mother put her hand on my Father's.

"Gareth violence is not the answer, you know that. We must go and see Mrs Williams and make sure that school disciplines this teacher," said my Mother quietly.

"Yes, Dad, she will see support me on this I'm sure." I added.

"I hope so," my Father responded," in the meantime, until we can arrange to see her, I think you should stay home. I'll ring the school and explain tomorrow."

I wasn't unhappy at that prospect.

Two days later, I was sitting in the reception area of the head-teacher's office. I felt a sense of déjá  vu as I sat there once again looking at the photos on the wall. My parents sat there next to me. The hustle and bustle of the school was around us. Through the open door into the main corridor I saw pupils and teachers passing each other. A small boy I remembered from the previous day looked into the waiting room, where I was, as he walked past. He stopped as he recognised me. We had brief eye contact before he was moved along by the bark of the teacher on duty in the corridor. I pondered his behaviour but my reverie was quickly interrupted as we were ushered in to see Mrs Williams.

After some brief pleasantries were exchanged, Mrs Williams, looking stern, came to the point.

"I have spoken to Mr Franklin and some of the students who were in the particular class." She said.

"I hope you have disciplined him for his insult to my daughter," interjected my Father.

Mrs Williams took a deep breath.

"If you will let me finish, Mr Morus," she said icily, " I have discussed the situation with the teacher in question and with those students who were not known to be Celyn's friends in the class to ensure an objective viewpoint. It seems that their memory of the incident, which is consistent, is at variance to the accusations you and your daughter are making"

"The lying bastards!" said my Father, almost yelling.

"Please Mr Morus! I would be grateful if you could contain yourself and listen," said the headteacher, a little angrily.

"Mr Franklin is sorry that you felt offended Celyn. He has explained that, after you walked out, which I am a very disappointed about, he had discussed gender diversity with the class as part of his introduction to the topic"

As I listened to this distortion of the truth I felt like following my Father in his accusation. The others had mentioned that Franklinstein had tried to cover his ass with a few vague comments after I had left. Mrs Williams had obviously swallowed his story backed up by the rugby team neanderthals in the class.

I switched off from the conversation at that point. It continued for a few more minutes with Franklinstein being defended by his superior and my parents sticking to their support for me and my version of events. Mrs Williams attempted to end the interview.

"I am sorry, I must bring this discussion to an end, I have an important meeting with the Governors of the school later on and I must prepare some figures for it."

"I see," said my Mother, who had been quiet up to that point," under the circumstances it looks like we will have to consider alternative educational provision for our daughter then"

"That is your choice, of course Mrs Morus," replied Mrs Williams," obviously I would be sad to see Celyn leave. I am happy for her to be here but I hope you understand that I have a school to run and must consider the welfare of all members of the school community"

We left the school admin block and walked in silence to the car. Mum and Dad got into the car.

"I think I'll stay and try and see Mr Hughes, you know, he's the head of the sixth form."

"Why, love?" asked my Mother.

"Well if I leave I'll need a letter from him, well at least it would be useful, so that I could get admission somewhere else, and I want to tell Siá´n and the gang what happened." I said.

"OK, Celyn," said my Dad," see you later"

I watched for a few seconds, waving at them driving out of the school, before turning back towards the admin block. I knocked on the door of the head of sixth form, but there was no answer. I looked at my watch, half an hour to break time. I decided to go for a walk. A few minutes later I found myself standing next to a tree, between the school playing fields and the changing rooms. I stood and watched a group of younger pupils, year 7 or 8 boys*** playing a practice game of rugby. Although it had never been my game of choice I appreciated the skill involved in it. Some of the young players looked talented too. I wondered which ones would eventually make the photo display in the head-teacher's reception.

One of the players stood out for different reasons. I realised that it was the boy who seemed to have some sort of fixation on me. The thing that attracted my attention was not his skill but his ineptitude. The few times he was given a pass he just threw it away quickly and aimlessly, to the increasing ire of his teammates. Eventually the sports teacher lost his temper.

"Evans you are a waste of space, go and have a shower!" he shouted at the hapless player.

The young boy ran towards the changing room, I saw tears rolling down his muddy face.

"Are you OK?" I asked as he neared me.

He looked up and stared at me, mouth wide open.

"Celyn!"

"You know my name?" I asked.

"Everyone knows your name," he said, wiping some of the wetness from his eyes with the back of his hand.

'Oh notoriety', I thought to myself.

"What's your name?" I asked

"Seren." He replied.

"That's a nice name," I said, although I had never come across a boy with that name before.

"What are you doing here?" He asked after a few seconds silence.

"Watching you be the best rugby player in the school, maybe?" I responded, smiling.

He laughed.

"I know, I'm hopeless, but some of them take it so seriously. Why are you here though, I've never seen a sixth former here before"

"I'm waiting to see the head of sixth form to get a letter so that I can transfer to college"

"Are you leaving? Why?" Seren asked with a surprising level of interest.

"It's a long story, but it seems for the best"

Seren's response came as a surprise. Tears began to well up again in his eyes.

"Please don't leave," he implored, looking into my eye," I'd be alone then"

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.

He paused and coming closer he whispered.

"I'm like you, I want to be a girl"

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*In loving memory of Heulwen Dafis
12.2.1997-23.4.2007
Inspiration to everyone
'Blessed are the pure of heart'

**Thankyou Heulwen

*** 11-13 year olds